


Did I Stutter? Do As You’re Told!

by Ghiacciolite



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghiacciolite/pseuds/Ghiacciolite
Summary: You're cooking lunch, but Brahms is impatient.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader
Kudos: 129





	Did I Stutter? Do As You’re Told!

**Author's Note:**

> Based off these 3 prompt sentences: “Shut up and take your pants off.”, “Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!” , and “Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You weren’t really sure how it happened, one moment you were cooking lunch in the kitchen, the next you were pulled into the walls and tossed on to Brahms bed.

“What the hell? I-I was trying to cook!” You snap at him. You’ve been in charge of Brahms for a while now, and while his moods weren’t anything new, it was still incredibly frustrating to be carted off wherever he wanted whenever he wanted.

“Shut up and take your pants off.” Oh, he was using his _adult_ voice. Brahms only seemed to break that out when he was either in a really bad mood or trying to seem mature. You were pretty sure which situation this was.

You shook your head. Bad mood or not, you had somewhere you needed to be. “Brahms, the stew’s going to boil over, I need to get back out there. Can we do this later?”

“Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!” Brahms stomped the floor, a sure sign he was ready to throw a tantrum. Brahms was almost thirty, and while you had made improvements in his situation and outlook, he still got petulant at times.

Rolling your eyes, you slipped your underwear off from under your skirt, tossing it on the bed. “Fine, but if it does boil over or burn, you’re cleaning it up.”

Brahms had no reply to that, but with how roughly he pinned you to his bed, holding your wrists in one strong hand to the pillow above your head, you had a feeling you just made his mood even worse. Great, just great.

His porcelain mask bumped against your face, his heavy breathing audible behind it. You tried to turn your head, to keep his beard from tickling you, but his other hand shot up, grabbing your jaw and stilling your movements. 

He was mumbling something soft under his breath, so quietly that even straining to hear it revealed nothing.

Brahms released you from his grasp, only to immediately start sliding his hands under your clothes. You could feel his erection straining through his trousers, grinding against your leg. Normally he would’ve had it out and tried shoving it in you somewhere without any buildup or foreplay, so it was very surprising that Brahms seemed to be taking his time. Of course, given that you had a time sensitive issue bubbling away in the kitchen, this was also very likely to be intentional.

“C'mon Brahms, I don’t have time for this…” Whining, you tried to shove him off, but his strength always seemed to surprise you. A man who spends all his time indoors sneaking behind the walls had no business being that strong.

Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say, as the second the words were out of your mouth, he gripped your shirt and bra in his hands, and ripped them off of you, tearing them and leaving them useless. There was no point in complaining about how much that bra cost, Brahms didn’t care, he’d just tell you to never wear one.

His hands latched on to your breasts as soon as they had been freed. Brahms never seemed to be gentle, and this was no exception. He squeezed and groped at them, enjoying the softness of them in his hands.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.” You muttered, looking away from him. While you did genuinely enjoy that he was at least trying to focus more on your body instead of just solely on his own needs, you really didn’t want to waste the hours you spent preparing lunch.

A loud and overly dramatic sigh came from behind his mask. Without any warning, he flipped you over on your stomach, his hand on your belly pushing you upwards until you were on your hands and knees.

Behind you, you could hear him frantically unbutton his trousers and push them down. Brahms gently weaved his fingers through your hair, a rare show of tenderness you weren’t used to from him. That immediately ended when he sheathed himself inside you, his grip on your hair tightening and shoving your face into the pillow.

In all the times Brahms had fucked you, he was never gentle, and this time was no exception. The bed frame shook from the intensity at which he took you, pummeling your insides in such a way that you knew you’d be sore in the morning.

While sometimes you mourned your ability to have guests over, whenever you were with Brahms you were very thankful no one else was around. Brahms was loud, his moaning and gasping always reminded you of how he sounded that one time you caught him murdering a burglar, the first time you had truly seen him for the man he was, and not just a doll. His bed frame banged against the walls and creaked with every movement he made.

His hand still entangled in your hair, Brahms pulled your body flush against him, not letting up for a second. His cock was hitting places you didn’t even know it was possible to reach, and faster than you ever had before, you came, your voice just as loud as his own. Brahms movements began to slow, and he held you tight as his release followed soon after, filling you up and letting your body drop to the mattress.

You were exhausted, and barely reacted when Brahms curled his body around you, cuddling you like he always enjoyed doing. You could feel his mask softly rubbing against the back of your head.

“I don’t want stew for lunch, I want a peanut butter and banana sandwich.” So _that’s_ what this was all about.


End file.
